a fiction blog

throwing stones — chapter four

The Golden got up at six-thirty every morning. There was a lot to
do before they went to school, and they liked to take their time.

They woke up, as usual, in a tight tangle of bodies and arms and
legs, like a cocoon in the center of their bed.

"Time to get up." "We know.""I'm glad we got the
blueberries.""They were too expensive." "But it was worth
it.""Yes." "Blueberry pancakes are his favorite.""I
think we should take baths this morning.""Good idea.""Not
just a shower.""Alphabetically.""I'll make the
breakfast.""And I'll help Mr. Bostwick."

Disentangling himself from the other two, Craig got out of bed and
padded off to the bathroom to start the water. Will and Sharon put on
their robes and went downstairs, Will to start breakfast and Sharon to
help Mr. Bostwick to get up and dressed.

"We're still sure something will happen today." "We should tell
him." "He'll know." "He can tell when we're upset." "I
hope he doesn't think we're leaving." "Why would we leave?"
"We wouldn't." "But he may worry that we will." "Then he would
have to go stay with his daughter and her family." "They sound
awful." "I wonder–"

"Children," Mr. Bostwick said gently.

Sharon turned from his dresser, where she was taking out his
clothes for the day. Will and Craig stopped what they were doing also,
though they were not in the room.

"We need to talk," Mr. Bostwick said.

"Will is cooking," Sharon said.

"Then we can talk in the kitchen. Please get me my robe."

She got Mr. Bostwick's robe and helped him into his wheelchair.
Then she wheeled him into the kitchen.

Will was at the stove, making pancakes. Craig had come down from
the second floor. He was wearing his robe, and his hair was still wet
from his bath.

Mr. Bostwick wheeled his chair over to the kitchen table, so Sharon
and Craig sat there. Will stood at the stove, watching the pancakes
that were on the grill.

"Something is wrong," Mr. Bostwick said, looking at them. He was
used to them, so their unusual appearance didn't bother him. They had
golden skin and shoulder-length blonde hair, with gray eyes, and they
looked so similar that only one person other than Mr. Bostwick could
tell them apart.

"You've been on edge all week," he said, "and it's worse today. And
now you're fixing my favorite breakfast, and you even bought
blueberries out of your own money, which you know you don't have to
do. Please tell me what's going on."

"We don't know," Will said.

"We've had a bad feeling all week."

"We've never felt this way before."

"And you're involved."

"That's all we know."

He nodded. "I see. And you think maybe I'm going to die today. So,
you're making my favorite breakfast." He smiled. "That was very
thoughtful of you. I feel about as well as I usually do, but at my age you never
know. Let's have our breakfast and talk of more pleasant things.
Okay?"

They nodded and went back to their work. Craig took over at the
stove and Will went upstairs to have a bath. Sharon wheeled Mr.
Bostwick back to his room to help him get washed and dressed.

He had been uncomfortable at first about being cared for in this
way by somebody who was, apparently, a thirteen-year-old girl. When
he'd expressed this, the Golden had shrugged, and Will or Craig had
assisted him instead. Then he gradually became aware that it really
didn't matter to them. If he told Craig a joke in the morning, Sharon
would refer to it later in the day. He started to treat them as if
they were completely interchangeable, as apparently they were.

It had been Mr. Bostwick who had insisted that the Golden go to school. At first they had had quite a few classes
together, but some of the teachers had become frustrated because they always gave the same answers on every test. Nobody had ever
been able to find any evidence that they cheated (though not for lack of trying),
but the decision was made that, whenever possible, they should be split
up.

This morning, Will had History, Sharon had Gym, and Craig had
Creative Writing. They were very good in History, but not in the
other two classes. They tried to do their best, as they always did,
but they were not strong, or fast, or able to master a lot of the
skills necessary to write stories.

They had the option to request different classes, of course.
Students had a lot of freedom to pick their own curricula and Mr.
Bostwick had suggested they ask for a change, but they had decided to
stay with the classes and do the best they could.

That morning, about halfway through their first period classes,
they suddenly stood up, made quick excuses, ran out of their
classrooms, met in the second floor stairwell, and threw their arms
around each other as the building shook and all the lights went out.

The next few minutes were chaotic. Students ran around, teachers
issues contradictory orders, smoke and dust were in the air. The
Golden knew what they had to do, though. Their first responsibility
was to go home and check on Mr. Bostwick.

One of the teachers was stopping students from leaving through the
front doors, so the Golden quickly went back to the stairway, down to
the basement, through a storeroom that was supposed to be locked but
never was, and out through a small window that led to a narrow alley.

The garbage cans in the alley had all been knocked over, so the
Golden had to climb over them to get to the street. Ordinarily they
would have picked them up and put them back where they belonged, but
it was more important to get to Mr. Bostwick.

They had arrived in U-town with no money. They had quickly learned that everybody was expected to volunteer at the hospital for at least a half day every week. They also learned that if they volunteered for a full day and worked into the evening, the hospital staff would see that they got some food and a bed for the night. They were well-liked at the hospital because they would happily do any job, no matter how unpleasant.

One of the patients they had cared for was Mr. Bostwick. He had had a stroke which had left him in a wheelchair. When he had been ready to be discharged, the nurse had said that somebody had to come to take him home. If not, they couldn't release him. Mr. Bostwick had protested that he could take care of himself, and in any case there wasn't anybody who could help him. After some yelling from both sides, the Golden had stepped in and offered to take Mr. Bostwick home.

On the way, they did some errands for him, and by the time they got to his house they proposed that if they moved in with him, they would take care of both the house and him, doing the shopping, preparing his meals, and cleaning.

He had agreed (he pointed out cheerfully that he really had very little choice) and they had moved in. To their surprise, he had apparently grown quite fond of them over time, and they knew that he had revised his will to leave his house and his few possessions to them.

The house appeared intact as they approached it. A couple of
houses on the other side of the street had collapsed.

The Golden opened the door and went in. The staircase to the second
floor had always leaned a bit to one side, and now it seemed to tilt
more than it had before. The air was better than the air outside, and
they quickly closed the door.

Mr. Bostwick was lying on the floor in the middle of the living
room. He had apparently fallen out of his wheelchair. There was a
board next to him on the floor, and a few pieces of paper scattered
around. The Golden knew that he used the board when he wanted to write,
laying it across the arms of his wheelchair to provide a writing
surface.

They squatted around the body.

"I think we're not supposed to touch anything.""That's for a
crime.""This isn't a crime.""What did he die
from?""Everything in the room is the way it was before.""I
think it was a heart attack.""He did have to take that
medicine.""For his heart.""Maybe the shock of the explosion.""We should pick
up the papers and the board.""And there's his fountain
pen.""We'll have to find the cap.""Otherwise it will dry
out.""I don't see the cap."

They laid the board and the papers neatly on the dining room table,
and then they looked around under the furniture until they found the
cap. They screwed the fountain pen closed tightly, then they placed
it on top of the pieces of paper, which were blank.

Then they looked at the body again.

"We should move him.""Where?""Into a chair.""It's not
right to have him just lying on the floor."

Working together, they managed to lift the body and put it in Mr.
Bostwick's favorite armchair.

"I'll take his pulse.""He's dead.""We should make sure."

Sharon picked up his arm and put her fingers on his wrist as she
had learned in First Aid class.

"Nothing."

They went to the sofa and sat down. They were silent for a few
minutes.

"What are we supposed to do when somebody dies?""Maybe it says in the book."

Will went upstairs to their room to get their copy of the U-town
Book. It was a slim volume which was given to every citizen (and for
sale to visitors). It included Ray Stone's essay, "U-town, not Utopia,"
various instructions and rules for citizens, and some reference
materials.

They looked in the index under "Death, not by violence" and found
this:

When somebody dies, not by violence, the following steps
should be taken:

Make sure the person is actually dead. This is covered in the
mandatory First Aid training. See p. 27.

Do not move the body any more than is necessary to determine if
life persists.

Go to City Hall and talk to the clerk, who will give you the
approproiate forms to fill out. The clerk will arrange for the body to
be transported to the hospital.

"We did the first thing.""But we weren't supposed to move the
body.""Should we move it back?""No, that might make it
worse.""We'll just have to tell them what we did.""I'm sure
we're not the first ones to do it wrong.""We hadn't read the book
yet.""We should go and talk to the clerk.""That may take a
while.""We should bring sandwiches for lunch.""The
refrigerator.""There's no power.""The refrigerator is off and
the food will all spoil.""And we just did grocery
shopping.""We should make sandwiches, of everything.""And then
we can bring them with us.""And give them to people who are
hungry."

Glad for something to do, they trooped off to the kitchen to make
sandwiches.

They knew that "City Hall" meant the hotel. There had been
attempts to set up an official city hall, or at least official offices,
but each time everything had slowly and inexorably relocated back to the hotel. The administrators
all lived there, and there were a lot of meeting rooms for them to
use, and people always came there with their questions and problems anyway.

The Golden owned the house now, but they didn't care about that. They minded much more that Mr. Bostwick was gone. He had known and experienced so many things in his long life, and those things were all gone now. They had tried to learn as much as they could from him, but he had always been more interested in talking about them and what they learned in school.

"We should go look for Hazel.""Ron.""To find out if she's okay.""She gets mad when we call her Hazel.""She lives at the hotel, with her parents.""We can ask about her when we go there to report about Mr. Bostwick."

When the sandwiches were made, they emptied their school bags and filled them with sandwiches. Then they set out for the hotel. This time they paid more attention to what was going on than they had when they were coming home from school..

"Was it an earthquake?""Maybe.""Would an earthquake explain all the smoke and dust in the air?""I'm surprised there aren't more people around.""Maybe.""And why is it so dark?""You don't suppose they're all dead.""I don't think so.""Remember what it said in the book, about disasters.""We should have reviewed that part, too.""I brought the book. It's in my bag.""Good thinking.""Well, in an emergency, people are supposed to go to the hospital.""Maybe that's where we should go first.""That's probably where they are.""It's closer, and maybe we can leave some of the sandwiches there for people."

So, they turned and headed toward the hospital. When they were nearly there, though, they saw a couple of people coming toward them. "The hospital is flooded," they said. "If you're injured, go to the school. If you're not injured, go to the hotel. That's where they're putting together rescue teams."

So, the Golden turned around and headed toward the hotel again.

The hotel lobby was full of people, and they were told they had to wait their turn, unless it was an emergency. They stood by the door and watched. After a few minutes, they got out sandwiches and started to eat. Some other people came up to them and asked if they had more, so they handed out some of the sandwiches.

Meanwhile, they watched, and saw that two people were trying to coordinate everything. One was a woman named Patricia, who wore jeans, a sweatshirt, and a baseball cap. The other was a teenage boy named Arturo, who had a shaved head and wore a torn T-shirt and baggy shorts. And then Patricia went away and Arturo was running everything alone.

Finally, he came up to them and said, "Yes?"

"Arturo Carbonieri, we–"

He looked startled. "Call me Fifteen," he said. "What do you need, and what can you do?"

"We need to report a death."

"Mr. Bostwick."

"We lived with him."

"When he was alive."

"He's dead now."

"So, we need to file a report."

"The instructions in the book–"

He waved a hand. He started to say something, then he stopped himself. "You're the Golden," he said. "I've heard about you. Please don't think I'm being sarcastic, but there is, as I imagine you've noticed, a disaster of some sort going on."

They nodded. "We were wondering about that."

He waited a moment, then he said, "Let's just say that no forms need to be filed for the duration of the disaster. Whatever it is." They nodded seriously. "So, what else can you–"

"We're also looking for our friend Hazel."

"Ron."

"She prefers to be called Ron."

"Ah," Fifteen said. "I can help you with that. She's alive. Her leg was broken. She was at the bridge, waiting for the mail, when a truck fell on her. But she'll be fine."

"Where is she?"

"She's in the meeting room, with her parents. But a meeting just started, so you can't go in there now. Maybe you'd like to help out here until the meeting is over?"

6 Responses to throwing stones — chapter four

OK, so now I get why they’re “the Golden” and not “the Goldens.” Their dialogue is interesting (although it can get a bit monotonous to read – and I’m getting the feeling that that’s the intended effect); three different people with apparently the same mind and appearance. I’d want to know more about how they were born/created and how they came to U-town and why. I found it odd that they showed relatively no emotion when Mr. Bostwick died.

There’s quite a bit of backstory in this chapter to explain the Golden – but it didn’t throw me off the main storyline. I’d like a full scene about how the Golden “threw their arms around each other as the building shook and all the lights went out.”

The U-town Book reminds me a bit of the rules in Lois Lowry’s The Giver. I’m sure more about this book will surface in further chapters… this town really fascinates me.

Now I want to know why Arturo calls himself “Fifteen.”

The lack of emotion and description in this chapter did pull me out of the story a little bit, but for now I’m so intrigued by this town and what’s happening in it that I want to read more.

For regular readers, Fifteen’s name is a huge reveal, by the way, since he was a pretty important character in U-town (and in some of the mystery stories) and his name has never been disclosed until now. How he got the nickname, I have no idea.

Good point about the Golden holding each other when the building shook. That should be expanded (not with their interior dialog, but with more of their sensations).

I’m still figuring out how to describe how they feel about Mr. Bostwick dying. They were very fond of him, but in their own way. I do have them sit on the sofa for several minutes (which is a long time to sit and do nothing, under the circumstances) and at some point I’ll fill in something there. Other than Ron, he was really their only friend.

I will admit that I have no idea of their history. They have said that they came to U-town because they thought they would be accepted there. Jan Sleet, the great detective (and nosy parker), started asking them some questions in one of the mysteries, and one of them responded, “Mrs. O’Connor, you are seeking to understand more about this situation, and us, out of a general desire to understand the world, which we completely respect; however, when the phenomena under investigation are sentient, and are posing no provable risk to the community, we would suggest that the rights of the phenomena under investigation should outweigh the rights of the scientific investigator.” She had to admit that this was fair, though she’s still curious. She encountered them again in a later mystery, but she didn’t learn any more there.

The U-town Book is a new thing. I partly thought of it because of the hurricane, and all the ways people have to find out what to do: radio stations (oooh, I just remembered something… have to make a note for the next chapter), internet, newspapers, and so on, and there should be a resource for people to know what to do in emergencies.

A couple of nit-picky things. In the top, it seems like they say they are going to take baths in alphabetical order, but then Will takes a bath after Craig, and shouldn’t Sharon be next? Also, this bit of dialog;

“Remember what it said in the book, about disasters.”
“We should have reviewed that part, too.”
“I brought the book. It’s in my bag.”
“Good thinking.”

I found it odd that the other two didn’t know that the one of them had brought the book. Because they’re all so in sync, that seemed like something they would be aware of.

It’s nice to be getting more of an idea of what happened. I found the Golden to be interesting, and I liked getting another perspective.

I guess the thing I’m wondering at this point is why you are hiding information about what’s happened. If no one knows what’s happened–perhaps it’s a mystery–I’d expect the characters to be talking to each other like this: “What happened? Do you know what happened?” “I don’t know either. I saw the buildings jump/move/shake” or whatever. (This doesn’t so much relate to this chapter with the Golden but to the first three.) When faced with an unknown catastrophe, the natural reaction of people is to begin gathering whatever information they can. No one seems to be doing that. And actually, while the Golden might not be asking these questions, they would likely be asked them as they walked or at least overhear such conversations.

If, on the other hand, no one is talking about what happened because it’s obvious–let’s say it was a bomb–then I expect to have been filled in on that too.

Then again, perhaps most of my frustration comes from having the chapters doled out so slowly. If I had been reading it on my own, I’m sure I would have easily read all four chapters (and then some) in the first day so maybe the details wouldn’t seem so withheld.

Good catch on the alphabetical bath thing. I was thinking that Sharon would continue to help Mr. Bostwick dress because she had started, but (of course) why would it have to be her? Much better for one of the others to take over, so she could go bathe, and maybe Mr. Bostwick doesn’t even realize for a minute that a substitution had been made.

As for the question of the book, they are not one person, they are just very closely connected. For example, if one of them refers to Hazel one of the others reminds them that Ron detests her birth name.

We’ll see more about this as we go along. I don’t know if we’ll learn exactly who and what they are (my current thinking is that they will be this book’s Tom Bombadil*), but we’ll learn more about how they communicate and interact.

As for the relative lack of “What the hell happened?” conversation (any any lack in that area will be addressed in the next chapter), I’m sort of basing that on my experiences on 9/11 (I was across the street when the planes hit).

We had very little information (we didn’t even know about the planes, we just knew there had been explosions), but mostly in those initial few hours people were focused on how to get out of the area and how to help people who needed help in getting out. The main questions on our minds right then were, “Are any of the subways running?” and “Can we find a pay phone to let people know we’re okay?” The bigger questions came later.

* Don’t know if you’re a Tolkien fan, but if you read his writing beyond Lord of the Rings, especially The Silmarilion, you find out the entire history of Middle Earth from the moment of Creation (my all-time favorite creation myth, BTW, since it’s all in terms of music), and the origins of all the races (elves, men, dwarves, hobbits, wizards, etc.). Except for Tom Bombadil, who appears in Lord of the Rings and who doesn’t belong to any of the races. Tolkien thought that there should always be something that isn’t explained.

I thought at first this was a case of hive mind with the Golden, though I guess that goes out the window, lol. I did enjoy their tag-less dialogue. In this case it works nicely, though if they do happen to have different personalities it will be difficult to get to know them as individuals.

Having them refer to this U-town Book was also interesting. They generally seem to be clueless on certain things, heh (and also a bit removed emotionally), so I thought the use of the book also helped to bring out some of their character as a collective.

So eventually I hope to learn more about why they came to U-Town and why they act the way they do.

Also, I think it’s great that you’re able to use your personal experience with September 11th in relation to this story, so if you could communicate that human aspect more often (if we’re, in fact, dealing with actual humans) through the character’s actions and thoughts and speech, I think it would bring the whole experience a bit more to life. Because right now most of the characters seem very…odd. Just not exactly feeling beings, per se, except Ron. Most of the characters seem to be operating on the same level emotionally. They just talk and go unfettered (emotionally) about their business and give you unusually calm smiles despite all that’s going on, if you know what I mean, lol. And maybe this was all your intent, though it’s hard to tell at this point.

Everyone just seems so…unfazed by the situation, is my reaction to the story so far. (At least Fifteen seems a bit affected by being kept so busy.) So if that was actually your intent, then well bravo!

Hmm, what else…

Okay, two minor things, but they could help make the reading a bit smoother, I think:

(1) When you say, “Sharon turned from his dresser, where she was taking out his clothes for the day.” That read to me as if Sharon was a man, so if you could use Mr. Bostwick’s name or some other tag to identify him with there besides “his,” then I think it would help to clear up any confusion there.

(2) Another part, where you say:

“‘Something is wrong,’ Mr. Bostwick said, looking at them. He was used to them, so their unusual appearance didn’t bother him. They had golden skin and shoulder-length blonde hair, with gray eyes, and they looked so similar that only one person other than Mr. Bostwick could tell them apart.”

If you alert us about how unusual the Golden’s appearances are before you actually give us a description of said appearances, it takes away the whole thrill of discovering things for ourselves as readers. I think just by switching the second and third sentence around you can remedy this.

All in all, though, I really enjoyed this chapter! I think it’s my favorite so far.

Tiyana, thanks for the comments, and I’m glad you liked the chapter. I think a whole book from the POV of the Golden would be difficult to carry off, but I did want to get inside them a bit (they’ve been in a couple of the mysteries, but only from Marshall’s POV). I really enjoy them, the way they’re always trying to fit in, by following all the rules, but they haven’t really figured out that, especially in school, if you follow all the rules and do all your assignments on time, you’re a weirdo.

In terms of whether we’re dealing with actual humans, yes, with the possible exception(s) of the Golden. A few characters have unusual abilities, but they’re still human beings. If not unfazed, they are focusing on what needs to be done. They have responsibilities, and they are not new to various situations like this. I will expand on this, but I’ve already alluded to the fact that Jan has reported from a war zone, and (as will be brought out in the next chapter) the founding of U-town itself involved was not entirely peaceful.

Certainly Jan, Vicki, and Alex/Tammy/Terry are guarded about their feelings. A family trait, and not surprising given what they have been through (we’ll get into that over time). After all, Tammy is now sitting in a room, in the middle of some sort of disaster, with her two daughters, both of whom she abandoned (in different ways and at different times). We’ll get into that, but not quickly, since it wouldn’t come out quickly.

It’s good to get your comments on this, since (as we know from various exchanges on the blogs) your style and approach to these questions is very different from mine, so it’s interesting to get that perspective.